Phan- Words don't come easy //mild smut // (completed)

Words don't come easy

Dan was pissed. Like, really pissed. It wasn't just a slight feeling of uneasiness and disapproval that slithers into your guts and leaves a bitter aftertaste whenever you think about the event that caused it. No, it wasn't just a bitter taste – the emotion slowly boiling inthe Youtuber's guts felt like being betrayed by a friend. And frankly, that's exactly what happened.

It wasn't the fact that Phil was with someone else. This aspect of the whole misery was the least troubling to Dan. After all, Phil was a grown up man and free to do whatever he well damn pleased. Besides, who was he to tell Phil what to do and what not? After all, it was him, Dan Howell, who decided to end their romantic relationship a little more than four years ago.
It weren't the things Phil was doing with the other someone at the moment he entered the flat after a tiresome dispute with his fresh-ex date (Dan never got comfortable calling her his"girlfriend", although they had been seeing each other for three months. Something in the word made the whole relationship look ten times more heavy and official than Dan was comfortable viewing it).
Hell, it wasn't even the noises (although, so Dan had to admit to himself, as he shoved the headset aggressively on his ears in order to block the sound, they were somewhat distressing).
No,it was the fact that Phil broke their rule. They only had one rule concerning new romantic and / or sexual partners which was "Don't bring them to the flat".  An important rule which was full-throatedly violated by Phil and whatshisname a wall away. 'I would never have dared!' Dan huffed in his mind. He regardedit as plainly insensitive. And, although it wasn't usually hard to bestow the winner of the "Insensitive prick in the Howell/Lester household" award, Dan felt it was time to pass on his trophy. It was a line that was crossed and he wouldn't let Phil get away withit. No, he would confront his flatmate in the morning about this issue. Dan proceeded ignoring the happenings in Phil's room as good as he could (which was in his case pretty poorly), when suddenly chance decided to play a cruel trick on him. The ten seconds break between the end of a record and the beginning of a new one was enough for a sound to reach his ears. A sound which made his toe nails curl and hit him so well aimed in the chest that he could actually feel his heart sink a couple of centimetres.

The low noise he would always recognise - Phil's noise - the noise that used to fill their bedroom so often when they were still in love, was joined by a soft male voice moaning Phil's name. An uncontrollable wave of rage gripped Dan out of nowhere. His hands started to shake and it took him a lot to not scream out in frustration. A frustration that surprised him, not just a little. Being concerned to bring his shaking limps back  under his control, Dan's thoughts wandered off to places he scarcely visited. Places he avoided with a stoic determination. Phil sounded exactly the same like he did when they were cuddled close together in the dead of night or the early hours of the morning. It was all it took to bring all the memories back, memories which were beautiful,of course, but thanks to him connoted with a sour aftertaste. He felt the strong need to lay his head on the desk, for the weight of his memories threatened to crush him. He couldn't even remember why he broke up on that rainy Monday morning in Spring. It was a mere feeling, a quick impulse that caused him to question the relationship they shared. It took his younger self some seconds to label it as growing dull and mundane, just like a wine that breathed too long andlost his sweetness. They had been together for two years when Dan decided to drop the bomb. As passionate, as emotional their lovestory started, as emotionless was their breakup. It was sorted in a few sentences, without reason or explanation. "I don't think we work, Phil. We should go back to being friends" His words flashed in front of Dan's closed eyes, mocking him, reminding him of how much of a jerk he was. Phil took it well, he assumed. Way too well to be honest. Good thing they never talked about it. Ever.

Okay, that last thing was a lie. He never talked about it. Phil seemed to have a very strong need to talk about the Dan-shaped hole in his heart whenever he tried to (unsuccessfully) fill the gaping wound with liquor.                                                                                                                                                It wasn't like that these events happened on purpose.But sometimes they just sort of did, when they were out with people they cared more or less about; out and not really caring aboutreputation or boundaries. It were those sloppy, drunk, pseudo-happy nights with friends that sort of happened and leave you kind of ashamed of yourself afterwards- those nights were he would lead Phil home. Those nights where the quiet of a post-social situation didn'tstay quiet very long. Phil would start and just never stop, askingquestions, voicing his feelings, being sentimental and aggressive.Dan would stay quiet the whole time. Dan would wish silently to not remember a thing that left Phil's mouth the next morning, but he never forgot anything of it. It was all there, buried in his mind, waiting for the right time to pop up and remind him that he was amuch more disgusting person anyone would think of. Phil knew. But Phil didn't hate. Phil would scream and curse be on the edge of tears- but he could never ever hate. But Dan did. Yes, Dan did.                                                                                                                                                                             Dan would stay silent while Phil poured his heart out. He would make sure Phil made it to bed safely. Whenever Phil kicked and felt the need tolet his aggression float, Dan held him until he was calm again, until the muscles felt weary and the words were glazed over by post-alcohol drowsiness. He would leave the room with a ghostly kiss on the other's temple– because Dan still cared so much about his best friend that it hurt to see him this broken, knowing it was his very own fault.                                                                                                                                                                     It were those nights when Dan wandered his room aimlessly, searching for something unknown to make the situation bearable. Asking himself too many questions until the first crack of sunlight hit his window pane. He couldn't answer half of them. But it became so much of a routine that he forget how to break out of it. He kept quiet too long, it would just be awkward to be honest to himself all of a sudden. He didn't know that the honest opinion about his feelings for Phil was. The silence between him and his heart climbed to a stage almost impossible to overcome. So he stayed silent, and Phil did the same during a very awkward breakfast, where both of them pretended they didn't remember a thing.